


Bells jingling in my hat

by medefreaky



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arya is a little shit, F/M, Gendry has a foul mouth, Gendry is Santa and Arya his elf, Hot Pie Knows, Visiting Santa Claus, disater children, gendrya gift exchange, gendrya gift exchange 2020, these children don’t know how to flirt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:14:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28178931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medefreaky/pseuds/medefreaky
Summary: For the Gendrya-Gift Exchange.Prompt: Santa’s Little Helper – Gendry reluctantly takes on a job as a last minute replacement mall Santa. Arya is an uncheerful elf, but she’s brilliant with the kids and she helps Gendry feel more at ease with them. After hours, they find themselves alone in Santa’s cottage.
Relationships: Arya Stark & Gendry Waters, Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Hot Pie & Arya Stark & Gendry Waters, Hot Pie & Gendry Waters
Comments: 20
Kudos: 66
Collections: Gendrya Gift Exchange 2020





	Bells jingling in my hat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lordbloodravens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordbloodravens/gifts).



> Hiya! This is a work posted for the Gendrya Gift Exchange 2020, as a present to lordbloodravens ([aemondtargaryen](https://aemondtargaryen.tumblr.com/) on tumblr).
> 
> I hope with all my heart that you like it! <333

Gendry Waters currently was, slowly, though steadily, in the midst of developing a headache. It was growing increasingly sharper as the muffled sound of some Ray Stevens’ upbeat Holydays song reached him inside the cramped changing room through the closed door.

 _Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way._ Yeah, like anyone could believe that crap.

It was then that Gendry decided he was going to kill Bella.

His half-sister planned this; he knew it with certainty, just as he could always tell a client what was the best kind of motor oil to put on the engine of a car. She did this on purpose, feigning concern about Gendry’s struggle to get enough money to pay his car insurance, which he was in a pressing need to pay by the beginning of next year and offering to get him a second gig besides his steady one at the mechanic shop, but it was all just an elaborate scheme on her part to watch him suffer and get her laughs out of his misery, because she was just awful like that.

The fact that Bella wouldn’t get to actually watch Gendry be humiliated at all was just further proof of her awfulness, at least in the young man’s eyes.

He cringed visibly when he caught sight of his reflection on the full-bodied mirror in front of him. Such an action looked awkward on a guy his size, he’d known that since he’d hit puberty and his limbs started to be too long for the rest of his body, and he couldn’t move about without looking awkward, let alone cringe at his leisure. He had outgrown most of that, thankfully.

Still, it was admittedly made worse by the garish shade of red of his pants and jacket, both trimmed with the fakest looking fur he’d ever seen, but none of that was as ugly as the wig and beard he was expected to wear, even though they both oozed some disgusting smell that made him want to gag.

Not that he cared how he looked, no.

But still, the things a poor fellow had to do for a couple of extra bucks.

He’d heard the shit-smell was due to the previous Santa, the guy who had quit last week, being a heavy smoker. Gendry could sympathize with him—chickenshit that he was for quitting on a perfectly good-paying job only because he didn’t want to use a stupid costume and deal with rambunctious brats, but Gendry was made of sturdier stuff, he was sure of it; he’d been respiting the same mantra ever since he received the call from his half-sister a few days past, as a last minute favor that a friend of hers owed her, and he’d been assuring himself every moment after that that he could handle a few kindergarteners no problem—he was in some dire need of a cigarette as well.

But there was much time for that, Gendry had to remember as he braced himself against the foul smell on the beard and the wig, while trying to ignore the fact that the later came attached to a stupid looking red hat with some goddamn bells jingling annoyingly at the tip.

Before opening the door, he eyed the old round pillow he’d been given to act as a false stomach.

Yeah, no fucking way he was going to put that on. They could fire him; he didn’t need the money _that_ much.

Gendry made his way across the store to the designated area for the children to meet with Santa. The big, old looking chair he would have to sit on for the next two hours was partially hidden inside a small cottage made out of cardboard. It looked fragile enough that Gendry suspected it could fall down if the fancy to hit it were to cross the overexcited mind of some seven year old.

“Hey man, you forgot the big belly!” Hot Pie said from his spot kneeling on the floor, connecting some wires to a big speaker that doubtless was synchronized to the boy’s laptop as well. Even if Hot Pie was dressed with the stupid green attire of an elf, Gendry knew his primary task would be taking care of the lights and background music; there was supposedly going to be another person helping the line of people, though he had yet to meet them.

“Did not,” Gendry drawled with a bored yawn, as he leaned against a wall, eyeing Hot Pie going through some playlist of annoying seasonal songs on his laptop.

“So what,” his friend said without looking away from his screen, “you just decided to play jacked Santa for shits and giggles?”

“Yeah, right,” Gendry snorted. “We can just say the old man’s gotten into shape working on making the toys instead of leaving all the work to his underpaid workers.”

Hot Pie looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t think Santa even _pays_ the elves.”

“Even worse, then. They’ve organized a strike to demand better working conditions. Santa’s got no other option than to join on the workload.”

A musical, girlish laugh came from behind Gendry, making him feel as if his soul was about to leave his body. He veered towards the sound with a scowl on his face and a curse on his lips.

“Good luck explaining socialist Santa to the children.” The sound had come from a girl, who was standing in front of him with a self-satisfied, amused grin. “ _That_ and the foul language, it’ll be charming.”

“And who _the fuck_ are you?” Gendry cursed again, refusing to be deterred by any small-sized stranger. And the girl _was_ small, that was the first thing he noticed about her; small, slender and pretty—that last part he was loath to admit, but upon further inspection, he noticed she had a long face, framed by long brown hair, and the biggest, most luminous gray eyes he’d ever seen. Not even the ugly shade of the striped green and white elf costume she had donned (so similar to the one Hot Pie wore, except she had a little ruffed skirt over a pair of red leggings) could dampen the color.

 _Oh_.

The girl smiled at him, with far more confidence than a person in a green and red hat full of little jingly bells ought to do. How had she even managed to sneak up on both him and Hot Pie while wearing that atrocity?

“I’m Candycane,” she answered simply.

“You’re Arya,” said Hot Pie with an exasperated yet fond tone of voice. “And that’s Gendry, the new Santa.”

The girl—Arya—laughed again, eyeing the man before her critically, seemingly not intimidated by the fact that he towered over her by several inches. “He doesn’t look much like Santa to me.”

That put Gendry on an edge; he wasn’t one to put up with being mocked so openly.

“Lucky for you, then, that your role seems to fit so perfectly, height and all, princess,” he bit back making a point of looking down at her, smirking slightly at the irked expression that crossed her features.

“I wasn’t aware that this new socialist Santa was also supposed to be rude. And don’t call me that,” she replied achingly.

“He is only rude with the elves that give him headaches, so I guess I’m the lucky one.”

“At least I won’t scare the children with a big mean face.”

“You’ll just scare them with your regular face.”

“Hey, _guys_ ,” Hot Pie interrupted them sharply, gesturing with his chin towards the line of people that was starting to form. “If you could leave this little… err, moment for another time. I won’t lose this job only because you two don’t know how to flirt.”

Gendry tensed, fighting in vain against the flush that was starting to spread through his neck and ears, scowling pointedly at his friend.

“Don’t be stupid, Hot Pie,” Arya said coldly, though Gendry wouldn’t dare look at her direction, so he couldn’t check to see if she’d gotten as embarrassed by the comment as him. He did see her walk past him, a spring in her step that he was pretty sure wasn’t there before. As she approached the crowd, she clapped her hands loudly and asked in a cheerful voice: “Alright kiddos, are you ready to meet Santa?!”

“Yeah!” the slew of children answered loudly and Gendry thought that he might be starting to go from red to green just by looking at how many there were in the queue.

Hot Pie began to push him towards his seat inside the carton cottage, while Arya listed in that same upbeat voice some of the rules the children and their parents would have to follow and presented herself and Hot Pie as Santa’s helpers, named Candycane and Hot Pie, respectively.

Gendry raised a questioning brow at his friend.

Hot Pie only shrugged. “It’s a good enough name, so why change it?” He patted Gendry in the shoulder before leaving him inside the cottage. “Now try to smile some for the kids.”

Gendry gingerly sat down upon the chair. The old thing was quick to crack under his weight, however. He did try to smile as best he could, though it was more like a grimace than anything else, and he was glad people couldn’t notice it behind the bushy beard. There were a lot of children, all looking at him from behind Arya, eyes huge and full of hope and awe.

This was going to be a shitshow.

And it was, for the most part. Surprisingly enough, at least to him, Arya was a wonder with the children, Gendry thought resentfully, because he hadn’t been bestowed with the same kind of ability to deal with kids, as it was evident to anyone who could watch him awkwardly interact with them. In contrast, Arya made it all seem so effortlessly easy: she would kneel to their level and talk to them with extreme patience and gentleness, encouraging them to go to him, even taking them there herself by the hand, helping them up and down Gendry’s lap, seemingly unaware of his extreme discomfort.

Gendry didn’t dislike children, per se; he just didn’t understand them at all. How could he? He hadn’t had much occasion to interact with them for most of his life. He did have a kid half-sister, Barra, who he knew must be around five years old right now, but his only contact with her had been thanks to the handful of pictures Bella and Mya had shown him through the years.

So Gendry tried to remember everything he’d heard about how to interact with kids, like talking to them slowly, and making the intonation of his voice go a few octaves higher and then pray for the best.

As it was, it didn’t seem like he was having much success with the brats, who looked at him mostly with skepticism and judgment, which was a bizarre thing to see in their childish faces. He even overheard one little girl complain to her mother as they walked away that Gendry was totally a fake. Still, they all told him what they wanted for Christmas; from Legos to video games, dolls, plushies, robots, a dog, a sibling, and even an elephant.

“Not a real one, right?” Gendry asked that particular kid, nonplussed.

“Of course I want it to be real!” he exclaimed with indignation.

Gendry fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I’ll see what I can do.”

The next to come was a very young child, a boy of five years or so, holding tightly the hand of his mother. Even from afar, he looked to be on the verge of tears, and Gendry very seriously considered just getting up and making a run for it, if only so he wouldn’t have to deal with some crying child.

Crying children—nobody told him there would be _crying children_ involved in this job. This was an obvious sign for him that he was not qualified for a job like this, like, at all. Maybe smoker-guy was onto something.

Before he’d completely planned his escape route, Arya had, of course, coaxed the boy with what seemed like an infinite amount of patience out of his mother’s hold and kindly guided him to Gendry, helping him to sit upon his lap, though the boy remained unsure, refusing to let go of her hand and sending her a fearful look with his big brown eyes.

Arya smiled gently, crouching down beside the chair and squeezing the boy’s hand. “It’s okay; I can stay with you until you tell Santa your wish.”

The boy shyly nodded his assertion, appearing comforted by the idea, and shifted his gaze to Gendry, who tried to smile reassuringly.

“Hello, who do we have here?” he asked, surprising himself by the fact that the friendly and kind tone of his voice didn’t sound as forced this time around.

“Rogar,” the boy said in a small, barely audible voice.

“And what is your wish this Christmas, Robar?”

No sooner had he said those words that the little boy’s eyes filled with renewed tears. Gendry tensed, frantically going over in his head, trying to think of anything he might have done wrong, but nothing came. Was he really that terrible at this?

“I just want my mommy back for Christmas!” Rogar burst out, interrupting Gendry’s silent, panicked reeling.

“Oh,” Gendry said, somewhat dumbly, he must admit, looking up to the woman who had bought the child there. She returned his look with a rather apprehensive one of her own, having obviously heard what Rogar said.

“No, that’s mama,” Rogar spoke again, noticing where Gendry’s gaze was directed. “I mean my other mom—my mommy.”

“Is your mommy far from home, honey?” he heard Arya ask. She was looking at the child intently, biting slightly on her lower lip, while drawing soothing circles on his back to try to calm his crying.

“Yeah, for her work,” Rogar nodded, giving a little sniff, trying in vain to hold back his tears. “And mama said she may not be able to come home for Christmas, even if she loves me very much, but I want her to come back!“ He turned eagerly towards Gendry. “Can you make her come back, pretty please, Santa?”

Now Gendry was definitely sure he should’ve run away when he had the chance. He looked at those big brown eyes, both sad and hopeful at the same time, and something in him broke.

Instinctively, he guided one of his hands to Rogar’s back, giving him a few comforting, though tense, pats. His hand briefly brushed Arya’s, and although both withdrew to the touch quickly, he still felt a jolt of electricity, noticing the slight shift in she gave from the corner of his eye.

Gendry tried to clear his head as quickly as he could, focusing his attention on Rogar, whose cries were quelling down. He struggled to come up with the right words, unsure if what he was about to say would even be of any help.

But something buried deeply within him urged him to try, anyway.

“You know, Rogar,” Gendry said, softly and full of hesitation, but he pushed himself to continue, “I once knew a boy whose mother had to work away too, so he didn’t get to see her as much as they both would have wanted. He knew his mother loved him, that she was away because she had no other option, b-but he still wanted her there with him… so the boy was sad.”

Rogar gave a shaky nod, wiping at his tear stained eyes with the hem of his sweater, and Gendry had to swallow once as he felt his own eyes start to sting.

“So the boy started to look for his mother in all the things around him, like the park on the front street she would take him to whenever she could, or all the food she would leave behind for him to heat in the oven, or their favorite TV shows they would watch whenever they were together.”

He bounded his hand up to rub at the child’s head. The gesture made him feel almost paternal, something he had never experienced before; it was a word he’d never even thought could be applied to him.

“I can’t promise you to bring your mom back for the Holydays... but I can promise you that I will do everything in my power to send her love back to you, so that you can feel it in everything that surrounds you.”

As soon as Gendry was done with words, Rogar flung himself towards him, engulfing him in as tight a hug as his little arms could muster, which wasn’t much, but the gesture still made Gendry feel light headed and as tall as a giant.

“Thank you, Santa!” Rogar said against the ugly fur of his red jacket, probably dampening it with tears and snot, but he didn’t really care. “You’re the best.”

The little boy hopped down from Gendry’s lap, taking Arya’s offered hand. She’d remained silent almost throughout the entire exchange, but when Gendry raised his gaze to meet hers, he saw her eyes were shining with what appeared to be unshed tears, though it was only a moment, and she was quick to blink them away. Still, she smiled at his direction, a big and sincere smile—so unlike the mocking smirk she’d previously shown him—, surprising him enough by the simple action that he was momentarily reddened speechless, and could only gawk at her like a moron as she guided Robar back to his parent. The woman received her son back with an embrace, sending a look full of gratitude at Gendry from the distance.

Shortly after that, Hot Pie announced that it was time for Santa to take a break, but that they would be back in half an hour. So far, Hot Pie had left the handling of the children almost exclusively to Arya, who seemed to thrive on it, while he managed the songs that they were playing for the line of people and even a few short and simple shows of lightning to entertain them.

“Wow, you guys, that was splendid,” Hot Pie announced once they had all gone to the back of the little cottage. It was a secluded enough area, partly covered by walls on two of the sides and a staircase on another; it was also where all of them had left their belongings, as they didn’t feel like walking in their ridiculous costumes around the store or the adjacent mall.

“It even got a bit emotional by the end of it all!” Hot Pie didn’t seem too fazed by the nasty glare Gendry sent at his direction, if anything it only made him grin wider. He strode up towards his bag, pulling his lunch out of it (some sweet type of bread, no doubt, given that it was Hot Pie), before sitting down on a low bench and munching on his food, scrolling down his phone thoughtfully.

Arya decided to follow Hot Pie’s lead, taking out of her expensive, fancy looking bag a fancy looking lunchbox that likely contained an equally type of fancy food. Gendry stared down at his simple paper-wrapped sandwich and Cola, and removed the fake beard, wig and that insufferable jingly hat, wiping out as best he could the thin layer of sweat that had formed on his forehead and around his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket. Toppling down the nearest wall, he gave his sandwich a hearty bite.

It seemed they were all too exhausted to talk, so they stayed in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes, until Hot Pie jumped up from his seat with an exclamation. “Shit! Sorry guys,” he said while still looking at his phone. “I forgot that I had to go meet a friend. He works at the food area up here, so I’ll be back in a min.”

 _What?!_ Oh no! Hot Pie _could_ not leave him here alone with Arya, the only thing that girl seemed to know how to do was annoy Gendry, whether it was by giving him snide comments, being better with children than he was, or smiling at him in a way that made her look so pretty he felt—

Wait a hot damn second.

No! Not _that_.

Definitely not that.

“And who’s that, H.P? A potential boyfriend, perhaps?” Gendry heard Arya ask acerbically, making him raise his eyes to look at her. She was sitting cross-legged against the opposite wall, and didn’t seem to care that much about their friend’s sudden and impending departure.

Hot Pie gave her the middle finger. “Shut up, would you?”

Arya just smiled lopsidedly. The gesture made her look akin to a wolf, not that it was a bad thing, actually; it suited her, something natural and attractive in her— oh, for fuck’s sake!

Gendry looked at his phone’s screen, seriously considering opening a new internet tab and searching how to shut down one’s brain, but Hot Pie had decided to cut off his little verbal spat with Arya, and with a final goodbye, he was off.

And Gendry was alone with the girl he very obviously (he could now reluctantly admit, only to himself) was starting to develop a small, annoying crush on, even though she was small and annoying and sarcastic and her fancy little bag could probably pay a whole month of his rent.

His eyes meet with Arya’s, who stared back at him with an almost timid expression, biting down on her lip just as he’d seen her do before.

“You don’t have to stay here, y’know?” he told her with feigned nonchalance, if just to fill the silence, feeling himself fidget a bit under her scrutiny. “If you have somewhere else to be, just go then.”

He expected her to reply haughtily that she didn’t need his permission to do anything, but instead smiled softly, then scooted closer to him. She still held her lunch box, using a pair of chopsticks to eat what appeared to be rice and a bunch of different vegetables.

“I don’t feel like leaving,” she said, almost playfully. “I was just thinking that this is the first time I see your face,”

Gendry smirked despite himself. “well, you hadn’t even seen it and you were already calling it mean”

“It _is_ mean, just not as ugly as I imagined it would be.” Arya appeared to realize what she’d just said, because a blush immediately spread all over her face. She averted her gray eyes, biting her lip again, a nervous habit of hers, he’d started to note; her cheeks were still a rosy tint. “I just… I just wanted to say that it was great, what you said to that kid.”

Gendry tried to fight off his own flush. “It was nothing.”

Arya leaned over earnestly, the bells on the hat she still wore jingling merrily as she did so. “No, no. Is _not_ nothing!” she insisted, though she hesitated a little on the next part. “My cousin, he… well, his father wasn’t in the picture, so my aunt had to raise him on her own, even though she was so young herself. I-I know she struggled with different jobs, and growing up she often left my cousin with my family, and although we… we tried, it was not the same for him, and I know he suffered for it,” she looked down sadly. “So I understand… if only a little bit, I do understand what y—I mean… wh-what that boy must have gone through.”

For a moment, Gendry didn’t know what to say, not only because he didn’t feel like he could admit out loud that the boy in the story had been him, but also because this girl he barely knew apparently was willing to respect that.

“And how’s your cousin now?” he found himself asking, saying the first thing that came to his mind in order to direct the focus of attention away from him.

Arya seemed to catch his hint, thank god. “Oh, he’s alright,” she smiled brightly. “He actually got this job for me, because he says I’m good with children.”

He snorted. “That’s an understatement. They adore you.”

“Well, it’s just practice,” she shrugged, “I have four siblings.”

“Really?” Gendry should be more surprised at how naturally the conversation with this almost-total-stranger was going, but somehow it didn’t feel weird at all. “That sounds insane. I mean, I have siblings, too—well half-siblings, truly, but I don’t see them much, otherwise I would have to give my shitty dad the time of day and—“ he cut himself off, wincing. Why was he feeling compelled to tell her all his deepest shit all of a sudden, was it oversharing hours or something?

He looked nervously at the ground, trying to think of a way to change the topic for a second time without appearing too obvious.

“You should see them, though,” he heard Arya say softly; making him look back up, her gray eyes full of kindness he hadn’t thought he needed, until now. “Only your siblings, not your dad. I mean, if you love them, you should go see them.”

There followed a long stretch of silence in which they just stared at each other, but it was comforting to Gendry all the same. It made him think of Mya, calling him every week to check on him and ask if he needed anything, even though his answer was always no because he was too damn proud to admit otherwise. It made him remember Bella, with her indecorous jokes and her insistence that they went out for drinks sometime. He thought of Edric talking excitedly about his college classes and how proud he was to have gotten there without their old man’s help.

Finally, it made him think about Barra’s toothy grin on the pictures, and how much he’d like to see her smile in real life.

Arya was still looking at him intently, but it no longer made him feel unsure or uncomfortable, but as if she was encouraging him with a single, subtle glance. And wasn’t it totally crazy, to feel comfortable with someone he’d essentially just met?

Perhaps, but he thought he could get used to such feeling.

“I do,” he found himself saying in a low voice. “Love them, that is. So I will try to see them more often.”

“Good,” Arya said simply. “I love my siblings. And my cousin, too. Even my sister, though she can be insufferable sometimes. Can I show them to you?”

“Sure,” Gendry responded, with far more eagerness that he’d thought was strictly necessary.

Arya pulled out her phone, showing him her lock screen picture. There were far too many people for such a narrow space, but he could distinguish a long-haired girl hugging a boy in a wheelchair from behind, and beside them was a young man holding a boy over his shoulders, smiling broadly. Almost all the people in the picture had the same shade of coppery red hair, so Arya stood out alongside another young man wearing a dark leather jacket; both brown-haired, long-faced and smiling at each other instead of at the camera.

When Gendry moved closer to get a better look, one of his hands touched Arya’s, barely, above the cold floor, and he once again felt that same jolt of electricity run down his body, but unlike the last time, neither of them pulled away.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok first of all, sorry for the delay. I was originally planning on posting this yesterday but… my brother actually came back home unexpectedly, and I really do mean unexpectedly because we weren't sure he was gonna make it because of the pandemic, so for me and my family who celebrate Christmas it was kind of an early gift.
> 
> Anyways I haven't participated in gift exchanges in literal years lol, but since I'm going through some kind of writer's block right now, I thought this was a good idea to give myself a push, since I have talked before about wanting to write Gendrya fics but being nervous about not nailing Gendry's characterization, so I picked the one prompt were it would only work if I wrote it through Gendry's POV to kinda force myself to get into his mind-space. I hope I did a good job. Oftentimes when I read Gendrya fics Arya is characterized as far more grumpy and brooding than Gendry and I'm like?? In what world lmfao, is quite the opposite actually. 
> 
> Also, I know the prompt said inside Santa’s Cottage but… I tried and it didn’t work so behind Santa’s Cottage it is...
> 
> So I tried to translate Gendry's kinda jaded and surly (though ultimately still caring) personality into a modern setting. I had fun writing it, I hope you had fun reading it as well! Specially you lordbloodravens, please tell me your thoughts and I send you all the Gendrya love ñ,ñ
> 
> By the way, I love happy endings so just so y'all know, Rogar gets, in fact, both of his moms back for the Holydays, as he deserves <3
> 
> Here's my [tumblr](https://https://iheartbookbran.tumblr.com//), if any of you want to contact me!
> 
> Happy holidays and happy New Year! Stay safe y'all!


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